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  “What now? You threaten me as well?”

  “Have I done anything but keep you safe so far?” It bothered him that she would think he could harm her.

  “I don’t know what your plans are. You were supposed to be on the same team as them, but that didn’t turn out to be so true, now, did it?”

  “Let’s get set up in the living room before it’s too dark to see anything.” He swiped both bags and gestured for her to move in front of him.

  There were two couches and some large chairs around a coffee table. He plopped the bags there then pushed her toward a couch. She sank and immediately put her head in her hands.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure, I shot someone, partook in grand theft and am in possession of stolen goods. Let’s not forget I was shot earlier today. I’m fucking peachy.”

  “Good to hear it, Dove. You’re not going to run out on me while I take a piss, are you?”

  “And leave such charming manners? How could I? Besides, I am invested now, need to know what’s next.”

  He eyed her with suspicion even as he trekked backward into the bathroom and unbuckled his belt. His lips twitched as he heard a grunt when she flopped back on the sofa she occupied.

  “Yeah, I could get used to this, Dove.”

  He had plans for that woman, lots of them, and most didn’t involve clothing of any kind.

  Chapter Four

  Xahara woke and slid from the makeshift bed she’d claimed. Right away, her gaze cut to the right where she’d last seen Jager lying. It wasn’t bright enough for her to see for certain, but her senses told her he wasn’t there.

  I must be losing my ever-loving mind. A man I’ve not even known for a full two days and I’m trying to convince myself I know what he feels like.

  Whether he was there or not, she had to try to find a way to escape or get a call out to her cousins. She winced when she moved to the left too fast, causing a tear in the quick bandage job he’d done on her gunshot wound.

  Pausing, she exhaled slowly as she gazed around the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She took another look at the couch. She couldn’t make out his large figure lying there.

  She still had to get out. There was no relying on him to keep her safe any longer. Plus she didn’t know him and he could be worse than the situation she’d initially been in.

  Her brain argued with her on that point. He’d done nothing but protect her thus far. She sidled to her right and felt her way to the end of the sofa she’d been on. Patience hadn’t ever been her strong suit, but SWAT had curbed that tendency within her to be rash. She slowed her breathing as she worked through the layout of the building in her mind. There was a door through the kitchen and one here in the living room.

  He’d parked the bike in the barn, away from and out of sight of the main road. She may not be able to start it here, but she could push it down the drive then get on it and ride away.

  Another slow exhale and she moved. The kitchen door was her destination. Pausing before the door handle, she looked around, the sensation of being watched burning into her. Still, she didn’t see him.

  Aware that it was dark enough out that no light would filter in when she opened the door, she did so with extreme caution. She cracked it enough for her to slip through, only to close it just as silently.

  Five steps to the edge of the porch and two down to the ground. The barn had been to her left and she debated vaulting the railing, but that would probably hurt more than it would help.

  Five.

  Everything about her was tense. Anticipating an attack from the dark.

  Nothing.

  Four.

  Her heartbeat accelerated as did her breathing.

  Three.

  Sweat slicked her palms and she hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do. What kind of bitch was she leaving him stranded here when he had saved her? In a manner of speaking.

  Two.

  A breeze picked up and she tipped her face up to it, grateful for the coolness streaming along her overheated skin.

  One.

  She flicked her tongue along her lips and picked up her foot to step off and escape. Still, that damn hesitation wouldn’t leave her alone. This wasn’t how she wanted to feel as she left.

  I have to think smart and like the SWAT officer I am, not a woman who is more than grateful to the hot, sexy man who not only saved my ass but gave me one fucking incredible orgasm. I have to ignore my ovaries and get out so I can get to the bottom of this and let my cousins know I’m safe.

  Decision made, she continued walking.

  One step from the two she’d descended to hit the ground and she found herself slammed up against the porch railing. A hard, angry male before her, his arms on either side of her, locking her where he wanted her, between him and the rail.

  “Going somewhere, Dove?”

  Fuck, it was sexy how his voice rumbled over her. Even though she couldn’t see him clearly because of the dark night, she didn’t have any trouble conjuring up his likeness in her mind.

  “Thought I’d run to the corner store. Did you think I would stay here and not try to get away from the man who kidnapped me?”

  He moved closer, his large shadow taking up more of her space as his heat surrounded her further. Dancing along the edges of the warmth was his scent. Raw and unmistakably masculine. She didn’t have a word for it other than ‘dangerous’.

  “Yet you’re not fighting me. I can damn well hear the thundering of your heart, the rush as your blood zips through your veins. The short, sharp breaths you’re taking. But it’s more than that. I can smell your arousal, Dove.”

  Fuck.

  Her legs didn’t want to support her. Biting the inside of her cheek, she struggled to remember she wasn’t a whimpering fool.

  “Want to know what I think?” The hair on his face grazed against her neck and bare shoulder as he murmured in her ear.

  “No. I don’t give a damn.” She hoped her voice wasn’t as thready as it sounded in her head.

  “Liar,” he taunted. “And because I know that, I’m going to tell you.”

  This wasn’t going to be helpful in any way to her current situation.

  “I think you want to be here. Trapped between me and this railing. You want more of what I gave you earlier, but more than that. You don’t want only an orgasm. You want my shoulders between your legs as I eat your cream until you can’t scream anymore. You crave me holding your wrists above your head as I thrust my dick inside this pussy I’m going to claim and mark as my own.”

  Her whimper couldn’t stay contained.

  His laugh reached down her pants and stroked her clit, sending trembles through her as she again struggled to lock her legs. It wouldn’t do to collapse in front of him.

  I am on my way out of here.

  “Once my pussy knows who it belongs to, I’m going to really start fucking you.”

  Twisting in a way she knew would irritate her injury, she used the sharp stab of discomfort to pull her mind from the foggy haze of lust it was swamped by.

  “All the pain in the world doesn’t make what I said any less true. We’re not leaving yet. We have another hour.” His words were smooth, like a blade in the dark, dangerous.

  He didn’t ask, just picked her up in his arms and carried her over the steps she’d taken such a long time to get down. Thinking he would just deposit her on the couch once more, she was surprised when he moved through the living room and down to the bathroom.

  Stepping inside, he kicked the door shut behind him and, still with one hand palming her ass, turned on the light. She blinked, trying to ease the pain splintering through her mind as she was yanked ruthlessly from the dark. Seconds later, she wished she were still submerged in the inky blackness.

  Jager, sleepy and rumpled from bed, was even harder on her libido. His hair was mussed, those bedroom eyes still sharp with desire and a need she was ready to match, even if her brain wasn’t on board. No shirt, which all
owed her to ogle—and she willingly did—the blanket of tattoos he bore.

  Her mouth watered and her palms itched to have his body beneath her, to explore at her leisure. Using the moment of the blaring light to cover her reaction, she stepped back and blinked repeatedly until she had her raging hormones under control.

  “Bring me in here to kill me?”

  His lips twitched, and all she could envision was him dropping to his knees and putting that mouth between her legs.

  “Pretty sure we just went over what was going to happen, and nowhere in there did it come across as me killing you. Orgasms notwithstanding. No, we’re in here because I know you tore my patch job.” He gestured behind her, and she looked, not understanding, at the sink.

  “What about it?”

  “Sink.”

  “I see that.”

  He grumbled under his breath, but she wasn’t entirely sure she’d have understood him had he spoken loud enough. It didn’t sound like English.

  “Sit on the sink and take off the shirt.”

  “I’m not stripping in front of you.”

  He stepped into her, moving her back before he reached around her to grab what he wanted from the cabinet.

  Jager was sure to be up for a sainthood after this.

  “Dove,” he said with a patience he didn’t really have. “I’ve had my fingers in that pussy of mine, fingering you to an orgasm. I’ve stripped you to take care of your gunshot wound. Get the fuck out of that shirt so I can take care of the injury.” A momentary pause. “Again.”

  He waited and stared at her face. That smooth brown skin he wanted nothing more than to lick all over. Nibble on her full lips and kiss that spot behind her ear he knew she was sensitive at. More than that, he wanted to ask her about the tattoos he’d seen on her earlier.

  Right now, it was about getting her out of the shirt to stop the bleeding. And not about how he loved her in his clothing, or how hard his cock was simply from standing close to her.

  He could see the defiance in her eyes and knew it was because she still fought her attraction to him. Personally, he had given up on that fight, aware of how pointless it was.

  “Case in point,” she muttered, tugging his shirt over her head.

  “This is my pussy.” He was right there when she freed herself from the dark cotton. Cupping that very pussy in a way that no one could mistake as possessive, he held her gaze.

  “Mine.”

  Her eyelids fluttered as he rubbed two fingers along the seam of her pants, bringing it in contact with her. Her moan nearly did him in.

  Her eyes overflowed with hunger, and when she leaned closer, he parted his lips to accept her kiss. Only she didn’t kiss him. His entire body went rigid when she grabbed his hard length in his jeans.

  “Fuck, Dove. You trying to kill me?”

  “Mine.”

  He took the kiss he needed. “Never doubt it.” Nipping her lower lip as he turned his attention from that luscious mouth to her injury, he didn’t say anything about her still retaining a hold on his dick. If she wanted to hold it all night, he would make it happen.

  “Looks okay.” He cleaned the wound meticulously and put a new protective bandage over it. He’d prefer to leave it open, but couldn’t risk her getting it dirty. “How’s it feeling?”

  “Like I was shot.”

  He lifted his head and pinned his gaze on her. “You were.”

  “Thank you.” Her deadpan response had him smiling.

  Hands on either side of her hips, he put them nose to nose, just now noticing the light smattering of freckles along the bridge of hers.

  “What now, Dove? We’re in a room and you have a hand on my cock. What are your plans for that?”

  “Not yours,” she corrected. “Mine.” She gave another flex of her hand around that very body part.

  “What do you want done with your cock?”

  “I want so much with it, but you said we had to leave in about an hour, so I’ll settle for a taste.”

  His blood thickened in his veins, much like his length did in her grip. The thunder in his ears had him swallowing a few times.

  “What?”

  She hopped off the edge of the sink and turned, still holding him so he didn’t argue, but his ass was now against the sink. Jager gripped the edges as her fingers deftly undid the single button of his jeans and reached for the fly.

  A low groan pushed out from his throat, and even if he’d wanted to stop it, he probably couldn’t have. His grumble of disproval when she released him fell away the moment se grasped the sides of his jeans and tugged them over his hips, sinking to her knees as she lowered them.

  He’d never wished he’d gone commando so much in his life. So near and yet to fucking far away from her wet haven. Those amazing brown eyes flicked up to him and another surge of blood raced to his cock when the tip of her pink tongue dipped out.

  Her warm breath brushed over his boxers and dick. He tightened his grip and swore he wasn’t going to move. He wasn’t going to rush her.

  She skimmed her hands back up his thighs and his muscles locked farther. Under the worn cotton, she inched up only to twist her hands and pull down that final barrier.

  His shaft sprang up, free from the confinement, swollen and hard. He snapped his gaze down to her when a small purr fell from her throat.

  She curled her fingers around his length and he nearly shot his load right then from that brief, simple touch. He stared at her as she knelt between his spread legs, her shirt still off, the white of the new bandage visible when he took his eyes from the way her darker hand curved around his dick.

  Fucking erotic and perfect.

  Slow and torturous, she fisted him, up and down the shaft, ignoring the swollen head. There went that tongue again, pushing his control closer to the realm of nonexistence

  She inched closer and flicked out her tongue to skim along the head of his cock. He trembled all over. Another purr slipped from her and in the next second, he had to pray to any and all gods who were listening not to blow his load in her mouth as she sucked him deep.

  There wasn’t any hesitation on her part. Her head bobbed as she worked him, her hands touching him when and where her mouth wasn’t.

  Jager pried his hands from the death grip he had on the sink edge and plunged them into the soft, kinky curls of her hair. The ends skimmed his quads when she leaned in close, allowing him to bump the back of her throat.

  Moans of pleasure fell and vibrated around his cock as she blew him. She kept her cheeks hollow as she breathed through her nose, he couldn’t get enough and tightened his hold with a growl of warning.

  If she heard it or cared, she didn’t respond. His Dove was fully intent on the task at hand. And he approved. Holding her head in place, he began bucking his hips, driving deep into her mouth at the speed he wanted. Again, she didn’t do anything to indicate she wasn’t on board with this. In fact, she dropped her hands and dug her short nails into the backs of his thighs.

  The ecstasy was such that he wanted to drop his head to the mirror behind him and roar his own pleasure, but he couldn’t find the strength to tear his gaze from her. Beauty in its fucking rawest form. That was this woman.

  “Dove.” The warning ripped up from the soles of his feet. That was it—he couldn’t get more words up past his lips. His balls drew tight, rising, and he gave two final powerful thrusts before his cock jerked and filled her mouth with his seed.

  He grabbed the back of her head and held her on him as his shaft bumped and spilled within her. “That’s right, Dove. Take that shit. All of it. Don’t you fucking lose a drop. It’s all yours.”

  Her lips remained clasped around his dick, sucking on him until he had been drained and didn’t have anything else to give her. His legs trembled as she released her death grip on his thighs, only seconds before she tipped her eyes to meet his—plump bottom lip caught in small, straight white teeth as she watched him. Her full breasts jiggled with each harsh inhalation she to
ok.

  He wanted her. His cock twitched and thickened. Hunger streamed into her gaze once more, and he nearly lost it when she swiped that teasing tongue along her lips. Seconds later she leaned forward again and licked him clean. It was enough to stiffen him again.

  Bending down, he hauled her up and claimed her mouth even before she’d settled on her feet once more. The fact that she didn’t back away or try to put some space between them only reinforced what he’d known the moment he’d been witness to her kicking ass and taking names. This was the woman for him.

  Jager snaked his arm around her bare back, bringing her impossibly closer, wanting as much contact as he could have. In response, she wrapped hers around his neck, the move pushing her breasts deeper into his chest.

  “Soon, Dove. Soon, I’m going to enjoy you like you are meant to be. No fucking quickie in a temporary bed or bathroom.”

  She smiled at him and gave him one more lingering kiss before she walked out of the room. This time he did rest his head back against the mirror and sighed. Flexing his fingers a few times on the edge of the sink’s counter, he eventually realized he was sitting there with his dick out.

  He got cleaned up and walked out as a slither ran up his spine. Hauling ass for the living room, he tried to ascertain where the feeling originated. Nothing. And that included Dove as well. She was gone.

  On the porch, Jager swore in many languages as he realized he had been had. She’d taken his bike and left him there. The barn door was open.

  He moved to the pillar by the steps and gripped it, ignoring the splinters that entered his hand as he squeezed.

  “We’re far from being done, Dove. I swear to you, I will find you.”

  Chapter Five

  Xahara winced as Xaya put a needle to her skin and restitched her wound. The three of them were holed up in Xandra’s room. Her youngest cousin was pacing the room in a sleek hot pink maxi dress, holding a bottle of wine in her hand. She stomped as she moved from one side to the other, a complete contrast to the light-footed woman she was on a normal day.